THE ATTACK OF THE DOUCHE BAG!

So I have worked with douche-bags before. Monumental even. I can take the ones that are ignorant and a little racist; but this one is the combination of everything that is wrong with the world all wrapped into a single muscle shirt tightly wound package. Think of Musolini having sex with Snooky then the kid being raised by the Butabi brothers. The following are some of the things that I have wanted to or had to say… and I actually have said some of them out loud.

- Don’t call me DOG! we are not friends and you are not Randy Jackson.
- No, just because we have a Russian coworker it does not mean they belong to the KGB or the Russian Mafia.
- No, not all Colombians are drug dealers.
- No, I don’t want to see your hair chest showing.
- Yes, you do look like Eurotrash on that shirt.
- No, I don’t give a rats ass about your Rolex that you got in Vegas from a pawn shop.
- Please take your phone with you, your ring tone is offensive.
- No, you are NOT James Bond.
- No, I don’t care about what supplement you are taking.
- No, I don’t want to go to your “spot” for lunch.
- I am not impressed by your jacket with Ducati on it, ITS SUMMER, you DON’T need a jacket.
- You don’t even ride a motorcycle to work, do you even know what Ducati is?
- Yes, I have felt silk before. NO I DON’T WANT TO TOUCH YOUR SHIRT TO SEE HOW IT FEELS.
- Please quit looking up famous Colombian drug dealers in wikipedia.
- The JAMES BOND ring tone is annoying, too loud… PLEASE TAKE YOUR PHONE WITH YOU WHEN YOU LEAVE YOUR DESK.
- It is not wise to discuss bonus structures because different job codes get different percentages.
- HR sits right outside our cubes. See her… head of HR.
- No I am not mad, I just don’t want to talk to you.
- Yes I am on a conference call, hence the headset being light up.
- If you do rock climbing all the time, why do you spend so much time in the Gym.
- No, it is not cool to pelt people in racquetball, specially if they are 20 years your senior.
- No it is not ok to squat in an office that is not yours.
- Please stop talking to me.

Remember back in the day when I used to be friendly and wanted to have friends. I have been cured. I already have all the friends I need, the prospects out there for new ones are scary.

The Day Has Come

F@ck ME!

So, for a long time I’ve had the feeling that knowing as many people as I do would get out of hand. I knew I would eventually forget who someone is and where I know them from. That has happened a lot since I turned 30 and having lived in 3 different states and all. 90% of the time they are from the motorcycle scene but I can place them pretty quickly even if I don’t remember their name.

Today was the ultimate though. On the elevator on my way down to lunch I went in with a couple of people. I recognized the voice of one of them. I know him from somewhere, but cannot remember from where. I remember the voice, I remember the face, but I cannot place him at all. Don’t know his name, don’t know exactly if it was from college days, consulting days… NO FREAKING CLUE!

Besides the fact that I feel old, not XO old, but still old… I have the tingling sensation that we would see each other a lot. We work on the same floor and even though it is different departments, I see people from that department all the time.

We did not get a chance to talk but he did recognize me and said, hey we should catch up. F@CK.

He was going to lunch with one of the “stoic Eastern European” people that work here. You cannot read them, they never smile… so I don’t have any way of getting information on what he does for the company.

I have pictures from our graduation and he was not in there, I know each one of the people there… including the guy that we never learned his name but we just called him Jeff.

Getting old sucks. I remember his voice clearly though, so it has to be someone that I spent time with either in class or at work. My brain just simply can’t place him.

The only other good thing is that he could be a friend of a friend or something. WHY CAN’T I REMEMBER?

Accused of Ignorance

I honestly don’t mind being called ignorant, in fact I love it when someone does it because 9/10 times they have no clue what they are talking about so it makes it ironic and amusing. There are plenty of things I am clueless about, but I love to learn when the opportunity presents itself. I sometimes forget about posts that caused “controversy” but a nice comment today reminded me of one of my favorites.

Look people…You need to get a life! If you don’t like the exhibit then don’t go, problem solved! Stop trying to get people to boycott or shut down the exhibit just because you don’t approve. That is completely ignorant! So to all of you out there that think this is in humane Grow Up and get over yourselves.
-Samantha

As one of the people posted, our boycott was not successful. The company is alive and traveling the country. It makes me sad that some people can put aside the fact that some of those bodies were not donated to science, but someone is commercializing what can be described as organ trafficking. Yeap, stolen bodies! that is what you are going to go “learn” from.

So to reply to my latest poster Samantha!

First, lets see… I need to get a life. Dam it Samantha! you got me, I have no life! I play video games so I am constantly told that I need to get one. Where can I buy a life? Please help me Samantha. I long for a life. The fact that I have a job and a twitter account does not count for a life. I guess maybe I will be lucky enough to some day have Samantha come back and tell me how I get a life. At least she did not call me a loser.

Second, I did not go Samantha… and neither did most of my lazy blogger friends (thanks Burro) because we took a moral stance against something most of us found disgusting and just plain evil to profit from someone’s remains which are sacred to a lot of people. Even if I was atheist, which Tim Teabow might accomplish, I still would not be ok with someone’s remains being displayed like this against their will. So Samantha, I had already solved my one problem.

Third! the definition of a boycott

“A boycott is an act of voluntarily abstaining from using, buying, or dealing with a person, organization, or country as an expression of protest, usually for political reasons. It can be a form of consumer activism.”

so sorry, but as much as you are within your right to go see prisoners plastiniced, I am in my right to try to spread the message that people should not. I find it deplorable that so many people hide behind the whole “science” and something that was just available to the “few” before can now be seen by ALL! OMG now I can be just like that celebrity scientist!

There are WAY better educational routes, and even the 1% of me that thinks that Burro made a great point saying that some kid might be inspired by seeing this is quickly overruled by the reality of how the bodies were obtained.

FOURTH! and the most important part of this whole thing… how is me wanting to boycott something that I don’t believing ignorant? I guess my inferior intellect is keeping me from understanding the magnitude that Bodies Revealed has as an intellectual tool… screw the iPad, screw google, screw computers and 3D models, screw MEDICINE… bodies revealed is all I need not be ignorant! group rates available.

Cinco! “in humane” is right, IN went the polymer into the dudes from that Chinese prison.

So Samantha, I am not against science or the study of the human body. I personally find some of this grotesque even though have seen and held human tissue in my hands for educational purposes. Ok that sounded like I was self sex educating myself, but no, what I was trying to say is that I have handled the organs of a dead body. Oh wait that sounds even worse. Ok, lets try again. I did take a physiology “honors-woot” class which included seeing a dissected human body and handling some of the preserved organs. Those bodies were donated to science and were a great educational tool. Now if those people would have been ok with being put through plastination, AWESOME… but I still find deplorable that a company uses Chinese prisoners bodies to make money in the name of science.

In conclusion, no I am not going to get over myself! I am still in love with myself and want to stay that way. I am not breaking up with myself just for you Samantha! so please quite patronizing me and tell all your friends to come read this! better yet, post it on facebook and tell them how mean I am. The more people that learn where those bodies come from the better.

Famibook!

I managed to live online all by myself (or so I though) for many, many years. My interwebs were a world far, far way from the eyes of only but a select few millions that made up the blogsphere and I thought it would stay that way forever. Everyone knows the joke some of us have been in for a long time now, “OMG MY MOM GOT E-MAIL NOW, How long until she tells me Bill Gates is going to make me rich if I forward this e-mail?”

Enter facebook, it made “social networking” accessible to many. Twitter can also be blamed, but it seems like my family has gravitated to facebook more than twitter. Now all of a sudden it seems everyone is online and posting about their lives out there… what’s worse, they can read about my online world now.

I doubt any of them will go back and read through my archive, and this has never been mi diary but there is a sense of exposure for sure. I am not going to change the way I write at all, or modify or delete a post to make someone happy… its my blog and reading it is a choice. I think the Facebook Spying is over because darn it, I am not beyond unfriending a family member on facebook if I smell drama.

There are other questions though. Through my family other extended family has found me and I have had a real hard time accepting them as friends. I have rule that I don’t add people there if I don’t care what they have to say because well, 300 people are just way, way too many. I was even called about accepting one of them… its like wow, how did my facebook all of a sudden become my famibook.

I find it very interesting already when people that barely know me not just want to friend me, but they go the step further of “friending” my friends. I have never used the interwebs to make friends, my blog, online forum postings, etc, always served another purpose… the added side-effect was that I did end up making some great friends.

I love when Spyder retells some of the joke her Mom tells her, and I thought about that when my Mom calls me to talk about the internet. She had just finished watching a show on Spanish TV about the “DANGERS!!!” of the internet, and how people have encountered horrible faiths after meeting people online. It was an amusing conversation to me, but she seemed almost nervous like, according to this program you are an statistical anomaly because you should have already met some psycho that would kill you.

My best friends has also had some interesting family interactions with facebook but he would have to post those on his own some day. I would love to hear if facebook is somewhat merging your online world with your real life one. I think its an interesting topic and cannot wait for the day when XO happens to leave me a message on my facebook and my religious family sounds the alarm and stages an intervention to save me from “the atheist white devil.”

Hard On

Even though some of my female readers would probably dissagree, I think males deal with hormones just as much as you do and not just during “that” time of the month. We are constantly charged with heavy doses of testosterone which makes us be prone to animalistic instincts like getting excited by the violence in the UFC or admire boobage wherever it presents itself.

Males spend most of their teenager years trying to learn how to handle erections. Its probably one of the toughest parts of going through puberty to have to deal with erections that we cannot either control nor take care of. This lead to one of the more weird instances of impromptu “sexual education” in my young life.

We were in Spanish class and the teacher was going on about his lecture. We were a particularly misbehaved group that was not only mean to each other, but also to the teachers. We got in our share of trouble and a lof of highschool was about who could do more mischief at one time or another. As the teacher continued with his lesson which sadly I cannot remember, one of my classmates yelled “Gonzalo (the teacher)” has a hardon.

Laughter ensued and even though all of us could relate since it was an all male school, the teacher was really disturbed by the acussation. His face changed and now that I remember the incident as an adult I can imagine how mortified he was. Back then I did not know the difference between a “shower” and a “grower.” Gonzalo got visually more upset and redder as the seconds continue to pass. Then he repeated the accusation trying to probably look for a reaction from the culprit but we had our “no snittching” rule in place for quite some time by then.

Then he went on a long tirade about how the penis multipies in size during an erection and seemed even close to just losing it during it. He looked so upset that we stopped laughin altogether and just listened about how if he had a hardon we would have “really” noticed it. He eventually cooled off and continued the lecture but it was an intersting reaction by an adult losing its cool over an obvious erroneous claim of “hard on.”

As adults we learn how to control erections and don’t walk around with a full flag pole salute unless we are about to perform; but during those teenage gears where if the wind hits just the right way we sported one it was a lot harder (lol pun) to conceal. Heavy books seemed to always be a good cover, but it was rather embarrasing when it was not Gonzalo that got called out for a “chubby” (not sure why but that word when referring to an erection still makes me giggle) but one of us. I certainly would not want to deal with aunt “flo” coming to visit every month, but uncontrolled erections were no fun to deal when during those years.

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